


The Overturning of Dawn

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Near Death Experiences, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn will be overturned time and time again, and those battling against it often become the cause.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Cloudy Afternoon

It was _that day_ _,_ again.

It wasn't raining. Bloated clouds decorated the sky, as the forecast said that there was the chance of rain this afternoon, but the clouds merely hovered there without sprouting a single drop. The sidewalks were more or less barren, but the vehicles were a hum, bustling along the street in a rather impressive arrangement, they all fit with not a single gap to be seen between any. The atmosphere certainly held that heavy feeling of humidity, and Vato Falman sighed nearly as heavily as the atmosphere. He hadn't been able to drive to his destination, it would have taken far longer than walking, and time was certainly of the essence. It wasn't much of an issue, for his memory was sharp of the city, however, his timing wasn't nearly as sharp.

He was dressed in civilian attire prepared for the predicted rain, but due to the lack of rain he felt that it was probably just slowing him down, and the humidity was starting to cling. Vato turned down numerous streets in a rushed, even a bit sloppy, manner, concerned that he would be late the second year in a row. His task was specifically to go to a flower shop, one he had grown to know well over time, and pick up a bouquet for this day. It was not a bouquet for a bright occasion, and so the weather was eerily fitting, making the day feel heavier than it usually was each year. It still wasn't raining, and that was good.

Vato finally arrived at the shop, one of the few well-lit areas around the city at this time and so it was difficult to miss. The shop was the ground floor of a mostly horizontal brick building, and the front of it was all a clear glass, naturally with a glass door. Behind the glass were various types and colour of flowers, as one would expect at a flower shop.

Falman opened the door, a familiar bell reaching his ears, indicating a customer's arrival. The shop had several aisles, all covered in varying flowers, and the roof was adorned with adjustable lights. There was a damp scent of earth and vegetation clinging to the air. As he walked to the cashier counter, the bouquets were usually bought from behind it, he brushed against someone, and nearly leaped, not expecting other customers to be inside. He was even more taken back by who he had brushed against, Second Lieutenant Maria Ross.

“Falman!” She said, her voice a quick whisper, “what are you doing here?” She stood in an aisle, dressed in clothes prepared for rain, and also wore a hat that covered most of her facial features.

“I'm-” He started to speak in his usual voice, but instead toned it down as he noticed her alarm, “Second Lieutenant, I-I'm buying a bouquet for--” A loud clash interrupted his words, and he turned himself towards it sharply, also a bit nervously. It was Denny Brosh, rubbing the back of his head while standing over a collapsed stand, a mess spiralling out all over the floor. He was a few aisles away, but close enough to tell that it certainly was Brosh. Falman was about to say something, but Maria stopped him by putting a hand over his mouth and pulling him into the aisle she was in. They watched Denny from behind a tall assortment of flowers.

The shop owner rushed over, his expression clearly coarse, as he started speaking to to the blond-haired Sergeant, but his voice was too quiet to hear. Brosh smiled sheepishly, his mannerisms clearly nervous and apologetic. The owner left, adjusting his gloves, likely to go and get tools to start cleaning up the mess. The Sergeant stood there, and made some attempt at casually gesturing at Maria, a signal indicating “success”. Maria then let out a sigh, as if she had been holding her breath, and took her hand off Falman's mouth.

Vato turned to face Ross, his expression a mixture of confusion and suspicion, “Ms. Ross...is there anything I need to know...?”

“It's best that you just carry on with your task,” she said, shortly, her eyes fixed on him, telling him all he needed to know. The interior of the shop suddenly felt miniscule, all he wanted was to get out and not be involved in whatever was happening. He shifted away from the aisle as casually as he could, and moved towards the counter.

The counter was a slab of thick glass, four feet long and wedged between two large racks of merchandise, the only entrance, or exit, being a piece of the counter attached to hinges. The cash register sat on a table behind one of the merchandise racks, and right next to the counter. Vato Falman waited, fidgety, glancing around the shop. A creak of a door opening, which was located behind the counter at the far end, the click of dressy shoes echoing off the floor.

“Good afternoon, Vato! I was wondering when you'd show up,” the owner said as he positioned himself behind the counter. He placed two gloveless hands on the table, expectantly, and mildly absent as he occasionally stared mostly past Falman's shoulder. Vato felt an inane fluttering rise in his stomach. “The usual, I presume?”

“Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Kimblee...” Vato mumbled, “and y-yes, the usual. I have the money for it right...” He spent a few minutes shuffling through items in his pocket before finding his change, “...right here.” Placing the money on the table, Vato noticed that Mr. Kimblee had been standing there without movement, besides the occasional tapping of fingers on the glass.

“Aren't you going to apprehend me, soldiers?” The shop owner said, with an amused tinge to his words, rising his voice, with his gaze ahead and towards the general direction of Maria Ross, and Denny Brosh. “You've got all the proof you need, _right here_.” Mr. Kimblee then rose his hands, spreading his fingers apart, and bending his hands so that his palms were angled forwards.

“No...” The revelation was nearly enough to knock him over, he moved away from the counter in a sloppy manner. The one who he had grown to know as a calm and generally pleasant shop owner, Kimblee, had what seemed to be alchemical tattoos on his hands... It was an immensely outlawed practise, and an immensely dangerous one, Alchemy. The government enforced strict regulation and watch out for this outlawed science, even a half-baked rumour could get someone investigated for researching Alchemy. “So...that's why...”

There had been tales of nations that had been brought to its knees merely due to one, or several Alchemists. It was often stated to be a science that would only bring destruction to people, that those who researched it would also become corrupt. His mind went back to all the times that he was told about Alchemy, and told why it would be beyond a nuisance to modern society. It froze him, he was standing not even with who seemed to be an Alchemist.

The world then tumbled into a blob of noise, it was so quickly that he had barely time to process the event, and before he did, everything surrounding him shattered.

 

It was raining. There was a loud pattering of rain drops at the windows next to him—enough to make them shake, and slowly, the rest of the world returned in a murky mixture of pain and confusion. There were several others in the room, some sitting, and some hovering. As he regained his memory of the event, he shot upwards, and whimpered as he did so, muscles straining and wounds burning. “Second Lieutenant Ross... Sergeant Brosh...the shop owner...” His eyes darted to and from each person in the room. “A-are they okay—are they here?”

“Don't push yourself, Falman,” Mustang's voice met his ears, “There was an explosion at Kimblee's four hours ago, you and them were in it, but the rubble is still being shifted through... We may find them yet.” Roy's voice was mild, but there was obvious concern in his voice beyond that.

Vato felt blood rush to his ears. He pressed his back onto the hospital bed, trying to calm himself, but he felt it was making him feel worse. He looked around the room again, realizing that it was the entire crew, his friends. Most of them were dressed in their casual attire, and they expressions were grim. “Mr. Kimblee...is he...I'm sorry, I couldn't do anything...” He began to mumble, the sound of the explosion ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes, succumbing to a sudden desire to sleep, but in reality his consciousness was yet again beginning to fade. There was a yell for some form of medical aid before he utterly passed out.


	2. The Small Shack on the Hill

“Brother, they're coming!” Alphonse Elric rushed into the shack, trying to remain quick while also keeping metallic clanking to a minimum. His large, grey-blue armour body didn't shine in the moderately dark room, and his urgency didn't seem to be the concern of Edward, for the fifteen year old Alchemist wasn't even awake. “This is a terrible time to nap...” Al sighed heavily, and proceeded to prod at his big brother.

They were located in a small shack in a mining town, shoddily built, but it was enough shelter and enough hiding for the days they had been here. The local townsfolk were surprising receptive of the two brothers, despite their unusual circumstances, and were able to secure this as an area to sleep in—but they still weren't supposed to be there. Some of the townsfolk had offered to house them in their own homes, but they had denied them. Additionally, brothers had been given more supplies from the generous inhabitants, supplies which sat in the corner of the relatively cramped room.

“Big brother! Get up!” Al shook Edward violently, which seemed to barely move even a golden lock of hair. Looking around the room quickly, helmet nearly rotating in an entire circle, Al searched for something that would help wake up the sleeping Alchemist. “Well, I don't want to do this...but I suppose I have little choice...” His armour begin to tremble, but as soon as he started to think about calling his big brother short, that big brother's hair-antenna sprung up.

“Ed?” Alphonse looked down at his brother, cautiously. “Military personnel are coming, we need to do something!”

“Sheesh...” Edward grumbled, rubbing at the back of his head,“they're always barking at our door...” His eyelids were still lazy, he barely put any effort into keeping them open. Standing upwards, he glanced around the room.

“What are we going to do?”

The brothers froze as the door to their little shack started to creak open, and as someone stood like a looming shadow over them from the doorway. “Who the hell are you?” Edward said, in a manner that was borderline yelling, and then placed himself into a defensive stance, his eyes fixed on the vague person's figure. There was something all-too familiar about the figure, Ed couldn't quite place it, but it was enough to set off an alarm in his head.

The person wearing heavy clothing, which obscured his features all too well, but the outline of darkly tinted glasses could be easily seen. He seemed like he was taken back more than the brothers were, and simply stood in place for a few moments. “Uh...I apologize...I didn't think this shack was occupied...” He put his covered hands in the air, “I mean no harm. I'm just a traveller.”

“Then travel _out of here_!” Edward didn't budge from his stance, his eyes still fierce and fixed on the stranger.

“Brother...you don't need to be so rude...and loud...” Al said, looking from Ed to the stranger. “It's okay! We were just taken by alarm, but we also mean no harm if you don't...”

The stranger laughed nervously, “it's all good. We'll be finding shelter somewhere else. My apologies...” Quickly, the stranger turned around and shut the door behind him, not even opting to question the situation of the two brothers. A few minutes of silence passed in the shack.

“That was strange...” Alphonse stared at the closed door, and the other brother let out a long sigh, and flopped on the floor.

“The person said ' _we_ ',” Ed started rummaging through their supplies, “what made you think the military was coming, Al?”

“While I was out on watch, I saw them searching through the area. I could see their uniforms just down the hill, and I was certain that they were going to come this way...but that person came instead...”

“Yup, I don't like this one bit...”


	3. Visitors

With Major Armstrong assisting the search for survivors, no piece of building or debris was left undisturbed or unturned. The explosion had shook the entire street, major damage from a both direct and indirect hit, and there were many casualties, but no truly confirmed deaths. It was only a matter of time until they found at least one of them, which was Maria Ross. The Second Lieutenant was in stark critical condition, and so, was urgently rushed to a nearby hospital. Denny Brosh was not found after several hours. Major Armstrong didn't stop searching and aiding the general area until late morning.

Ross slipped in and out of consciousness,  however, the hospital staff managed to moderately stabilize  her condition, and it was likely that  she would be bed-ridden for months. They told Falman that it was a miracle that he was not in any worse condition than  Maria Ross , that he was lucky considering his presumed proximity to the explosion.   


Personnel from Central endlessly questioned Vato Falman, and reliably, he told them all that he remembered of that afternoon  in the flower shop . Solf J Kimblee was being investigated for practising Alchemy, and the tattoos on his palms seemed to confirm it, so it was most likely that he was the cause of the explosion. He was told to sketch out the “transmutation circles” whatever they were called, and he wasn't told much about what they actually meant, or what they told about Kimblee's knowledge in Alchemy.  The folks from Central seemed to keep their mouths sealed on the matter, which Falman knew was likely making Colonel Roy Mustang very inclined to learn more of the  incident's detail. 

However, he was unhappy with his memory of events, for he felt like he was missing something. It was an odd, alien feeling, the inability to recall something, it was practically the first time it had happened in his life, and so it contributed to how miserable he felt.

Falman could barely sleep, between the pain, emotional trauma, and the tick in his side relating to the blanks in his memory. There was something in his head, a vague sense that he was to be blamed for the event happening—that Vato Falman had given away Denny Brosh and Maria Ross's identity. However, he also had trouble dealing with someone he knew, or supposedly did, was  supposedly an Alchemist, and damaged an entire building—no, an entire street,  with no, or little, regards to the lives that could be taken. The rain was becoming annoying, the pattering at the windows next to him, even if now obscured by curtains, was becoming louder, and louder in his head. The rain had given away for brief amounts of time, but it seemed to pour back mercilessly.   


The “anniversary” of Maes Hughes death had nearly become the time of his own, and could very well be the death of Denny Brosh. For days, he had been visited by his friends and family, resulting in an accumulation of well-wishes, in the forms of cards and other gifts, on the table next to his hospital bed. There were no flowers.


	4. Those Who Search

Red eyes settled upon the small, run-down shack located above the hill for a few brief moments, knowing the Elrics were once there. Gluttony travelled beside her, his form wrapped in rags, idly nibbling at a finger as he stared ahead. They had been travelling for a while now, ever since the great dismantling, they had put in motions to reclaim the main seat of Amestris,  the military.  The entire ordeal seemed to be one of surreality, but even Lust knew little of the event that lead to the successful capture of father, or if it was really a successful capture at all. Father could have  had  things planned, surely, and the rest of the homunculi could wait, for they had seen centuries rise and fall many times already. 

The ground was muddy from the recent rain, with every step up the hill there was a signature slopping noise, and the grass was muddled and scrubby. She had not killed for weeks that it was like rust on her lips, and she knew that there was no one around that could get in the way of this fervent desire, however, she also knew that it was something never truly quenched.

“Can...I eat?” Gluttony said, glancing around for something that looked edible,  and that was everything, but he was more specifically looking for  what he considered the finest meat, human . 

“Soon, Gluttony,” Lust said, patiently as always, as they reached the top of the hill. Gluttony's mouth curled into a smile in response to Lust's reassurance, and so, he continued at a faster pace up the hill. Earlier, Gluttony had outright refused to visit the hill, and she couldn't get exactly what it was out of him, he was in too much of a panic, a mix of repulsion and fear. Lust knew that Gluttony had been around for the dismantling of father, and so she decided that it very likely had something to do with it, as she was sure that it was likely the most 'traumatizing' experience he has ever had at this point. 

“I'll go inside and search for any clues on their possible whereabouts,” Lust said, placing a hand on the shack's rusted handle. “Gluttony, stay outside for a few moments.” She opened the door, a fitting creak entering her ears. She stepped inside the shack, despite being shoddily built, it didn't let a lot of light in. A small drip of water fell from above from the roof, the shack was soaked by the rain. It would be a surprise if they truly found a lot of clues to the whereabouts of the Elrics, but she also wanted to find what Gluttony had feared.

After inspecting the shack for a few more moments, she found nothing. It's not to say that Lust was disappointed that they would have to get more _drastic,_ instead she felt relatively relieved that they would, and Gluttony would be overjoyed. She went outside, and delivered Gluttony the news: it was time to thoroughly question the townsfolk.


End file.
